Stockholm Syndrome (8 page)

***

Mason grinned at Evelyn. There was the adorable blush again.
She had that fair, almost translucent skin tone that glowed when the slightest
bit of heat brought the blood to the surface, making her look as if someone had
slapped her cheeks.

Of course, that made him think about bringing the blood to
the surface on other parts of her. The cheeks of her ass would turn such a hot
shade of pink if he spanked her, and just the lightest flogging would make her
amazing breasts swell and glow. His cock sprang from semi-erect to rigid as the
intense visual flashed into his mind. Luckily she was now looking everywhere
except at him, so she probably wouldn’t spot it, though he might have to
rethink his wardrobe while she was around. The light fabric of the board shorts
tented rather easily.

His nostrils flared, picking up the scent of warm, freshly
showered female. She looked so clean and scrubbed, all natural and youthful in
that oversized t-shirt that couldn’t possibly hide her tits. Her legs were
surprisingly muscular and shapely, probably from all the hiking, and the
toenails of her tidy little feet gleamed with clear nail polish.

Oh, how he wanted to dirty her and muss her up, ravish her ’til
she unraveled and came apart under him! He was shocked at his compulsion to
mark her. The need to cover her skin with his sweat and his saliva, to shoot
his come deep inside her so that she could never be rid of him, was
overwhelming. Right now, when he looked at the slender, vulnerable column of
her throat rising from the wide neck of her shirt, he wanted to clamp his lips
down over that smooth skin and give her a big purple hickey for the entire
world to see! And he hadn’t done that to a girl since he was a teenager!

He grimaced. Dinner would be a quick affair. He didn’t think
he could bear her close proximity for too long.

The Fates thwarted him. They found Owen ensconced at the
massive wooden kitchen table, a half-empty wineglass and a pile of documents in
front of him. There was also a plump, gray-haired woman bustling around the
kitchen, piling the table with dishes of food.

“Edna! I thought you’d gone home for the evening!” Mason
sounded delighted.

“Yeah, I had gone home. Then I started thinking your guest
might be hungry and youse’ll be tired, so I came back. I’m making a curry,
look.”

Mason peered into the pot. “Edna, you’re a saint—a very inquisitive
saint, but a saint nevertheless. Come and meet Evelyn then.”

He took Evelyn’s hand and pulled her closer.

“Evelyn, this is Edna, my housekeeper. She makes the best
lamb curry in the world.”

Edna laughed. “Oh, shush now! Ya boys are just easy to cook
for—always so hungry. How’s it going, Evelyn? Pleasure to meet ya!” They shook
hands. “The food’s almost done but it’ll be ’bout another ten minutes.”

Mason winked at Owen. Edna loved to mother them—always had
and always would. But he was concerned. He had hoped to speak privately with
Edna and George before they met Evelyn. She would try to solicit their help the
moment she was able to speak to one of them alone. The elderly couple would do
anything for him, but he needed to explain what was going on. Oh well, she wouldn’t
get the chance to cause mischief tonight. He’d keep a close eye on her.
Although she’d kept silent so far, he could sense her simmering emotions.

He settled her at the table and poured her some wine.

“How’s the signing going, Owen?” he asked, indicating the
documents scattered around his brother’s place.

“It’s getting there.” He turned to Evelyn. “Mace had this
fucking huge pile of stuff for me to sign for the family trust, and since I’m
going back to Brisbane tomorrow morning, he wanted me to do it tonight.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” Evelyn sounded quite dismayed.

“Yeah, I’ve got commitments. This was an unplanned trip for
me, remember.”

“Yeah, for me too,” she muttered under her breath. He
thought he glimpsed the sheen of moisture in her eyes before she turned her
face away.

Mason felt another stab of guilt in his gut. How would he
ever make things right with her? Frustration surged in him like prickling heat
rash. He couldn’t talk to Evelyn with Owen there and Edna bustling around,
setting the table, fussing over them and chatting inanely about the trees in
the orchard, which she hoped would bear lots of fruit so she could make jam
and
chutney. Before they knew it, she was heaping their plates with curry, rice,
and salad.

“Now youse all enjoy your meal. I’ll be back later to clean
up.” She disappeared out the kitchen door.

“Where’s she going?” asked Evelyn anxiously, then her
expression changed to surprise. “Wow, this curry is really good!”

“Yeah, she’s a great cook.” Mason mixed his curry and rice
with a huge dollop of chutney. “They have a cottage about half a kilometer on
down the road. They walk up and down from the big house at all hours of the day
and night. George even put up some of those solar lamps along the way so now
they don’t have to worry about torches.”

“Oh. And does anyone else live out there?” Her voice sounded
casual, but Mason knew she was fishing for information that might help her
escape.

“Not a soul. George and Edna’s is the last house. The road
goes on a little farther to the stables, and that’s where it ends.”

“What, no neighbors?”

“Not for miles. It would be a long walk back to the main
road, Evelyn, and another long wait for a car to come by, if you were foolish
enough to consider hitchhiking. It’s not busy out this way.”

She flushed and dropped her eyes. They ate in silence.

“I’m going to bed,” said Owen abruptly, standing up and
taking his empty dishes to the sink. “I want to leave early tomorrow. Mace, all
the paperwork is done. I’ll put it on your desk on my way. Good night, Evelyn.
I probably won’t see you in the morning. I hope… Well, I’m very sorry. About
everything. Good night.” He turned and fled.

“Can I get you anything else?” Mason asked after Owen left.
Evelyn looked pale and upset.

“Let me go back to Brisbane with him? Please?” A low,
desperate plea.

“Oh, Evelyn, I’m so sorry, but I can’t do that. You know you’d
go straight to the police. We have to sort this out, you and me.”

“It would help if you’d tell me exactly what would convince
you that I wouldn’t. My word obviously isn’t enough.”

“You’ve asked me that already. I don’t know yet. Your word
might be enough if I have reason to trust you, but right now, I just can’t.”

She made a small noise of frustration. “Well, could you at
least finish explaining how you made a mistake and caught me? You were telling
me about The Chase at lunch, and we were sidetracked. You never mentioned why
you thought I was one of the players. That’s what happened, right?”

“Yeah. There’s not much more to tell. You were wearing
exactly the same clothes as the female players—jeans, trainers, and a white
shirt. There shouldn’t have been anybody else there on campus at that hour of
the night, so it never occurred to me that you weren’t one of us.”

“But I didn’t have a veil.”

“Most girls take them off once the game starts.”

“I ran away.” Her voice was soft.

“They all do. That’s why it’s called The Chase. And they
fight and scream and resist, and some even cry.”

He leaned across the table and picked up her clenched hands,
holding tight when she tried to pull away.

“Look at me, Evelyn.”

Her eyes met his, fathomless blue lakes of tears.

“I swear I didn’t know. I’d never,
never
have done it
if I’d guessed. I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to pleasure you.”
I
still do,
he thought desperately.
I’d like to give you so much pleasure
that it burns the memory of last night right out of your mind, and you never
think of it again.

His mobile rang. The moment was shattered.

“Shit! I have to take this call. It’s one of my business
partners from South Africa. We’ve been missing each other for the last few days
and it’s important.” He spoke into the phone. “Hello, Bryce. Good to hear you,
mate. Just give me a moment, I’m going to my study.”

***

Evelyn was left alone at the kitchen table. For a crazy
moment she considered running out the door, but it was dark, and she was
barefoot. The cars were out there, but even if they weren’t locked, she didn’t
know how to start them without the keys. There was nowhere to go. Panicking
would do no good. She had to
think
.

She dropped her head into her hands, massaging her temples.
Owen was leaving in the morning. That meant she’d be all alone with Mason, and
that was very…unsettling.

She got up and started scraping off the dirty dishes and
packing them in the sink to distract herself. A moment later the kitchen door
opened and Edna waddled in.

“Oh no, sweetie, have they left ya all alone? And leave that
now, you’re a guest. I’ll take over!”

Evelyn’s heart began to thump. She grabbed Edna’s hands.

“Edna! Edna, listen to me! You have to help me. I’m
not
a guest. Mason’s kidnapped me. He’s brought me here against my will. You have
to help me get away!” Tears welled up in her eyes and she let them run down her
cheeks unchecked. She
had
to win the woman over.

“What? What’re ya saying?” Edna’s simple face was a blank
mask of surprise. She pulled her hands out of Evelyn’s grip.

“I’m saying he
kidnapped
me, Edna. No, listen to me!
He brought me here tied up in the back of Owen’s van. He’s broken my mobile.
I’m supposed to be in Africa.” The words tripped off her tongue. “There isn’t
time for this! He could come back any second. I need a phone, Edna, quickly!”

“Africa? But it makes no sense. Ya don’t look kidnapped, and
youse all seemed so friendly at dinner. Why would Mason kidnap ya?”

“I… He… It’s complicated.” She wanted to grab Edna and shake
her. “Look, will you just give me a phone, please?”

“Who’d ya want to call?”

“The police. Triple zero.”

“Oh now, hang on.” Edna backed up a couple of paces. “We
don’t want trouble here.”

“No, we don’t want trouble,” declared an icy voice behind
her.

She spun ’round. Mason stood in the doorway, expressionless,
arms folded across his chest.

“Edna,” he said, “fetch George, and go to my office. I’ll be
there shortly.”

“No, wait, Edna!” But it was too late. The woman slipped
hurriedly out the back door.

“Come, Evelyn.”

She stood mulishly, refusing to look at him, disappointment
bitter in her throat. He approached her slowly, allowing her plenty of time to
move, and when she didn’t, he picked her up. She kept her face turned away as
he carried her to her bedroom, placed her on her feet just inside, and left,
locking the door behind him.

***

Evelyn lay in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. She was so
confused. Why, oh why hadn’t she told Edna that Mason had raped her? She sensed
that if she’d told her, it would have tipped the elderly woman’s sentiments in
her favor, but instead she’d hesitated at the critical moment, and now the
opportunity was lost. By this time, Mason would have told them his side of the
story, whatever that was, and they wouldn’t listen to her.

Was she ashamed? She worked at a family counseling center.
She’d encountered domestic violence and she knew the heartbreaking myriad ways
victims battled with shame and guilt, how they blamed themselves for things
even when their innocence and helplessness were obvious. But she’d never
thought it could happen to her.

And what
had
happened, anyway? She’d said
yes
to Mason. At the last minute, she’d wanted the orgasm of her twisted fantasies,
and she’d said
yes
. And what about him? Would he have stopped if she’d
shaken her head, said no? If she’d cried loudly and fought harder? Had he
really
not realized that she wasn’t part of their game? Was it his fault, or was it
hers?

She eventually slipped into a tangle of nightmares mixed
with vivid erotic dreams that had her moaning and shouting in her sleep.

***

The next morning, Evelyn woke to the sound of a key unlocking
her bedroom door. She scooted up in bed, looking at her watch. Half past nine!
It was so late and she was still in bed. No doubt she looked dreadful. Her eyes
were scratchy and her mouth was parched dry. She hadn’t cleaned her face, or
brushed her teeth or hair, and she didn’t like the idea of Mason seeing her
like that. But she needn’t have worried. It wasn’t Mason who came into her
room, but Edna, carrying a tray piled high with breakfast goodies. George
waited just inside, holding the key.

“How’re ya going, sweetie?” greeted Edna, a bit too
brightly. “I brought ya a bite of breakfast!” She put the tray down on the bed.

Evelyn returned the greeting, eyeing the food. “Is Mason
coming to have breakfast with me?” There was enough on the tray for at least two
people.

“Oh no! That’s just for ya. Ya won’t be seeing much of Mason
today.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s gone into town, Rockhampton, y’know. He had some
business there, but he’s also gonna to get provisions. He hasn’t been home for
a couple of weeks, and we’re short on lots of things.”

“He does the shopping?” That was a surprise.

“Not usually, no, but today he offered. He said he needs
special things he wants to buy himself.”

“How long will he be away?”

“I’m not expecting him back ’til midafternoon.”

“And what am I supposed to do until he gets back?”

Edna looked down, clearly feeling uncomfortable. “He wants
ya to stay in your room. I’m supposed to keep ya locked in.”

“Seriously, Edna? So now you’re my jailer? You must see how
wrong this is?”

“Yeah, I don’t like it much.” The older woman looked
miserable.